Feel For You
by Shizuka no Taisho
Summary: In a world of nightmares and death, who else could feel for the poor little broken doll that had become Amane Misa but someone who is just as broken as she? Who could deliver her from her sins...but the one who created them?


The Shinigami Realm was a desolate, black world of shattered stones and dingy shadows. Home to many beings made of the strangest broken bones and tattered fur, decorations of jeweled gold dressing many of their skeletal, misshapen bodies, the world seemed to be rotting around them, while the creatures residing there did nothing to change it. They gambled, usually using their lifespans as collateral, since nothing else held value, and sat in the dirt like crumbling statues. But in the midst of the broken world, a slender figure glided across the earth, separated from the rest both by induced confinement and unnatural presence. He didn't socialize, this strange figure, instead keeping to himself, and never revealed what he looked like.

His slender frame was obviously human though, possessing a natural elegance that appeared all the more frightening in this world of unholy death. Pale, undeniably human hands tipped with razor sharp claws gripped the front of his cloak, a ragged shroud that had obviously seen better days, and held it close to his body as he glided across the broken landscape. From underneath the shadow of the hood pulled low over his face there was the distinctive curve of a human jaw, icy white skin all the paler compared to his dirty cloak. Lips were pressed taut into a scowl, one that seemed to deepen with each step he took, and as he lifted his head to peer out at the depressing landscape, anyone paying attention would've caught the flashing, brilliant red of a crimson iris.

But as human as he appeared, he wasn't. Hadn't been for many years.

"Hey, come play a game! Quit being such a loner," a voice called from the distance, the distinctive clinking of rolling dice echoing in the barren realm. The figure ignored the call, shuffling his bare feet across the dirt and barely noticing when broken pieces of bone and jagged rocks cut his soles.

"I can't…" he whispered, his cracking voice a rare thing to hear. Once so soft, the dulcet tones had faded into a broken memory of their former selves…much like the man himself. "….I have something to do." And so he did. For years, ever since his entrance into this forbidden place, he'd been searching for the one person that could possibly understand his situation, his damned existence. The others never stood a chance; they'd fallen into fits of psychosis early on, their once human bodies disintegrating and quickly adapting to the realm the Death Note had referred to as Nothingness, but in reality was so much worse. He was the only one to retain a humanoid form, but year after year of enduring the tainted darkness of the world known as the Shinigami Realm were taking their toll; he wore the cloak for a reason after all.

"…where are you?" Scarlet eyes swept the dark horizon, the voices of the other shinigami quickly fading into the distance. It had taken him years, time spent searching for those like him and finding only their mindless, broken remains, but now there was a rare shred of hope.

He just had to find her.

There was no wind in this realm, but a breeze seemed to shove him towards the looming tower of monstrous black rocks cluttered to his left. The stone, as broken and webbed with cracks as it was, contained a delicate beauty, one too fragile to exist in such a rotting world. And within the circle of stone, he felt it; the same presence had drawn him to the others, but hers was so much stronger. It was the pull of kindred spirits shattered beyond repair. "I found you," he murmured, and took a shaky breath before stepping over the threshold. Immediately he was swallowed in inky black, but his eyes granted him sight into the abyss, where they failed him at so many other turns. It was cruel…but bitterly poetic.

"I feel you." And so he did. The deeper he went into the circle, the stronger her presence became, until it was like a stake in his un-beating heart. The pain of a heart attack was nothing compared to the blistering agony her presence created. But…perhaps that too was payment for his sins.

Pushing his cloak aside, he glanced around the looming structure, dirt clinging to his tattered pants and hovering like mist in the air. Even so, it seemed to stop a few feet from the hunched, tiny figure slumped against a smoothed panel of jagged stone. Its surface had been polished to an ebony sheen, reflecting a pale, gaunt face and dainty hand that seemed to lovingly caress the distorted reflection.

"…you're here…." came the tiny, breathy sigh, and he steeled himself as the once beautiful visage of Amane Misa turned on him. Unlike him, who shielded his disfigurements and kept his face carefully hidden beneath its shroud, Misa seemed not to care. But then, who had she to impress within this world of death? "It's you," she whispered, and a chilling smile twisted those rosy lips. Shinigami or not, death had not stolen the carefully applied makeup from her face, though had turned her countenance an unworldly shade of alabaster marred only by the jagged lines of red that streaked down her cheeks like scars. "You're here…"

"…" he didn't reply, warily moving to stand before her. Dull eyes blinked up at him beneath golden lashes, and he cringed when she cocked her head to the side and lank pigtails fell despairingly over her shoulders, tattered ribbon bows drooping. Like him, she too had kept her funeral clothes, though the porcelain baby doll dress she'd been so carefully buried in was now just as tattered and stained as his own clothes, the lace ripped beyond repair and velveteen ribbons nearly black with grime. But no dirt clung to her skin; it was smooth, unmarred. So unlike his own, which he knew lay hidden under the hood, and yet was still as obvious to him as the broken look in the girl's eyes. She was a puppet girl, and her strings had long ago become so tangled in his hands that he was unsure if he could ever truly pick them apart. "Misa….." he whispered gently, "do you know who I am?"

"Does Misa-Misa know who you are," she parroted, confusion childishly puckering her lips into a frown. To many it would seem that way, but he knew her well enough to see past the innocent façade; it was there, shining balefully within her eyes. She knew. She knew and she still leaned into his hand when he pressed it to her cheek, a clawed thumb carefully tracing her bottom lip. The years in Nothingness had changed her, likely given back the memories stolen when she'd relinquished ownership of the Death Note that had so marred her life, but still….. "What do you mean? How could Misa not know who you are?" Her lace clad hand came up, smooth fingers gliding under his hood to trace the curve of his jaw. When they met textured skin she frowned, her brow puckering further as she swept them up and across his eyes.

"I've changed…." he cupped her palm, sighing at the feel of hands reaching beneath his hood and running gently through matted hair.

"Wha-" Her pout deepening, Misa cupped his face in both hands and frowned. "I-Misa-Misa is confused," she wetted her lips, thumbs pressing into the scars surrounding his eyes. "Misa knows who you are….but why're you here?"

He frowned. "The same reason you are Misa…." did she not understand where they were? Why they were here?

Misa shook her head, tugging the stained locks of his hair. "Nonono!" She cried. "Misa is here because she let you die. Why aren't you dead?" Her tiny hands buried deeper into the scruffy lengths, tugging him down until her lips were barely an inch from his own. Her eyes seemed to sweep his, but his face remained cloaked in shadow by the tattered hood. It was like she craved an answer, and the only way to get it was by feeling his ruined face and skin. "You-you're dead! You can't be real. You're a ghost or-or something." Her lips dramatically fell into a pout, and with a sob she ripped away from him, falling back against her stone mirror. "You're not real, not real, not real!" Her tortured screams fell from those petal lips, and with an agonized screech Misa clutched a hand to her chest, jagged fingernails ripping into the delicate fabric of her dress. "Go away! You're dead! Misa killed you!"

A stab of pain ripped through his chest at the pathetic sight before him. Was this what fates had in store for her? An eternity of wasting away, her mind shattered beyond repair and frozen in a state of deranged beauty? It was bitterly cruel. 'Misa….doesn't deserve this,' he sighed, reaching out to the girl. "Misa, you didn't kill me," he whispered. But at the mere touch of his fingertips against her arm she recoiled, staring at him with wide, horrified eyes. It hurt, a fact his younger self would never have admitted, seeing the agony and fear coloring those crystal blue irises. "Misa….please…" reaching out again, he held his palm face first in a gesture of peace. What a lie, and she knew it. "I'm not dead….not the way you're thinking." He grasped her hand, detangling it from her clothes. Misa glanced at it, tears of red beginning to roll down her porcelain cheeks, but allowed him to run it down the planes of his scarred face to his chest. There her fingers regained their long time use and swept his shirt apart, bringing a crazed grimace to her lips.

"You….aren't dead," she giggled, and oh did that sound make his heart burst with pain. It was a sound far more befitting those people doomed to a life of straps and padded walls….

"In a manner of speaking," his voice cracked, and that soft skin halted against his own. "Misa….I died a long time ago. But because of what I did, I….ended up here." In a world rotted to the core, filled only with broken bones and filthy, ruined beings. "It had nothing to do with you. You didn't kill me, understand?" He brought her trembling palm to his scarred lips, and she continued to stare at him with tear filled eyes, lips parting ever so slightly.

"Misa-Misa….didn't kill you…" she whispered, biting the swell of her lower lip. "But-but she did! You weren't supposed to die," the tears glowed in her eyes, red liquid gleaming over the natural blue. "Misa was supposed to keep you safe! Don't you remember? You told Misa-Misa that she had to listen to you…" she jerked her hand back and gripped the sides of her head, crimson blood beginning to ooze down her chin. He tried to grab her wrists, settle her down, but with a laughing cry Misa stumbled to her feet, her little ballet flats scuffing in the blackened dust. "You-you weren't supposed to die," she stammered. "Misa did all she could to keep you safe! But, but you were always off doing your work, and I…" her laughter melted into a tortured scream, tiny fists digging into the mounds of ratty hair surrounding her skull. "All those years….all the lies….I loved you, followed you! I-Misa helped you!"

He looked away, red eyes falling closed. "I know. I never….appreciated all that you did for me, Misa."

Misa sobbed, dropping to her knees. "Why…" she whispered, staring at him brokenly. For a moment he wasn't even sure if it was him she was truly seeing, or a ghost of his former self. "Why did you leave Misa-Misa? Wasn't I good? I-I did everything, all for you! It was all for you!" Misa's cute face fell, stained lips twisting upwards and flashing glittering teeth. "It-it's not fair! You were always running off, leaving Misa-Misa alone. You promised me everything, but-but…." she turned gleaming blue eyes on him, and years ago he would've been concerned by the red pool that spread out from her pupil and covered her iris. "Misa loved you," her broken voice whispered, and he watched solemnly as she reached into the tattered volumes of her skirt and withdrew a thin black book, the cover scribed with strange letters. It called to him, the notebook he knew could kill any human with a few well written words. "….Misa….she used this," she murmured, and a cold quiet shrouded her voice.

"Yes, you did."

Glancing at him, Misa shook her head. "All those years….Misa-Misa gave away her life, just to do as she was told." The notebook trembled in her hand, and in a blur of pale skin her other was wrapped in the material of his hood, broken fingernails ripping the already shredded material. He sighed and leaned his head down.

"You obeyed every word I ever gave." Lifting his stained red eyes, he matched her gaze and let the hood be ripped off his head. Dingy hair, once hidden beneath the shroud, fell freely in tangled heaps over his face, and with a noise of distaste Misa shoved his bangs aside, staring his scarred visage in the face.

"Misa-Misa loved you," she whispered, "but you never loved me back….did you Light?"

That name…he hadn't heard himself called by that in years. The Shinigami King had forbidden it upon his entrance into the Shinigami Realm, making it cannon that his name was now, and for all eternity, Kira. Light grimaced; the king had done it to remind him of his past, his _failures_. He had a twisted sense of humor. "No Misa," he replied softly, pushing her hand away. "You were a tool, something to be discarded when I was finished with you." They left a bitter taste on his tongue, but Light knew his words were the truth; something Misa needed to hear. "I never loved you."

For a second her wide eyes brimmed with glowing tears, rosy lips trembling, and then she nodded, her fingers dancing across the Death Note's cover. "Misa knew. She could see it in your eyes….all you cared about was the world, and ridding it of evil. You never cared about Misa-Misa." And she lifted the notebook, a pen of bone appearing in her right hand. Light glanced at it wearily, not even bothering to stop her as she held it above her arm, the pointed tip grazing into her alabaster skin. It was the same pen he carried in his pocket, her notebook an evil twin to the black covered monster decorating his waist. But his bore no names, unlike the blood smeared pages of hers. It was riddled with hundreds, each written in childish scrawl, though one in question stood out glaringly on the white pages. "Never cared-you hated me…." Misa stammered randomly, her girlish tones coated with naïve hatred as blood oozed down her arm.

Light sighed, shaking his head. It was all true of course. His younger self had hated the pretty blonde. She, to him, had been the epitome of failures….his failures. "Wanted me dead….Misa did everything for you-you were my first love, but you never cared…."

"Misa," he touched her blood slickened wrist, grimacing as the lacy gloves on her hand bled a rusty red. "You can't kill me." And still the pen in her hand was soaked in the blood, the tip meeting smeared pages and beginning the kanji, until halfway through his name she glanced up at him with teary eyes. They were so glazed with death and fear, the heartache like liquid flames within the brilliant sky blue, that it nearly made him recoil. All those years ago he'd been told that eyes were windows into the soul, but had never believed it. Now, seeing the pathetic doll sitting before him all warped and marred by the darkness, Light knew it to be truthful. "Misa…." his hand smoothly took the pen from her hand, succeeding only after a slight hesitation on her part. "You can't do it," he murmured softly. "I'm doomed to roam this world for eternity. Nothing can change that."

"Light," she seemed to whimper, gazing pathetically up at him as he stood and tossed it into the darkness. The notebook in her hand fell with a plop to the dirt, black dust smudging the porcelain and red pages. "I-I don't-" Misa squeezed her eyes shut, red tears glittering like gems on her lashes. Tiny hands fisted her massacred skirt and shredded the material further, black-red fingerprints appearing all across the frilled fabric. "Misa doesn't understand," she finally managed, shaking her head. "What did we do to deserve this?"

What did they do…? Light frowned, a deep feeling of exhaustion settling upon his shoulders. "You did nothing….it was all me." He tilted her chin up, wincing when those unsettling blue orbs opened and stared into his own dingy red. "It was my fault that we were damned. You would never have had to suffer like this if not for me."

They never would've met if not for him. If not for Kira.

Misa sniffled, her full lips trembling. Pushing back the regret and guilt gnawing at him, Light leaned down and captured her lips in a kiss, feeling the wet of her tears slicking his skin. It felt wrong, tainting her with his touch. He'd grown so much since his death, learned lessons that would have been quite useful in his youth. Of course, that no longer mattered. But one thing he had realized in this personal hell was that life had been cruel to him and those who followed him, and opposed him. They'd been doomed from birth, especially him and L. It was as if fate had created them solely to play off each other in a blood stained dance, never getting close enough to touch but just barely on the fringe. Misa though….she didn't belong in their world. This world. Fate had thrown her into a game she was never prepared for, nor suitable to participate in. Her purity had been tainted by the notebook, much as his own had. 'If I ever had any at all,' Light frowned, pulling away and staring at the twisted face of his most loyal follower. Even Mikami, who worshipped him as a God, had never had the love and trust that Misa had possessed for him. "That was part of your demise." He whispered, and Misa looked at him curiously.

"Light….?"

So many questions ran through those ocean depths, but she was beyond comprehension. The Shinigami world had been cruel to her, just as he had in life. "Misa…" placing a hand on her cheek, Light picked up the Death Note from the ground, shivering at the usual singe of power that stung his fingertips. Such a deceitful, worthless tool. He and it had been well suited, as they were to this endless nightmare. "You've written so many names…." page after page was filled, all in childish, bloody kanji. Light didn't recognize any of them, but perhaps that was best. "Did you truly wish these people dead, Misa?"

Giving a small whimper, Misa shook her head. "Misa-doesn't want to die-he told me I'd die if I didn't write names!"

Light didn't need to ask who HE was. It was the same monster that declared him Kira, who ruled these lands with such nonchalance that it was almost frightening that he secretly wielded such power. But then, he wasn't the Shinigami King for nothing. "Misa….this isn't living," Light put the notebook down, keeping it a distance far enough away so that she couldn't touch it. Misa glanced at it, but her eyes almost instantly locked back on him. Those beautiful, deadly eyes. They were as much a weapon as her notebook, but without the notebook she was still powerful. His lips deepened into a twisted smile, and he had already steeled his nerves as he reached for her again, both of his hands coming up to grip her face. "You don't deserve to suffer in this world with the rest of us. You killed, but your mind was corrupted the moment you touched that thing," he didn't dare say the name of her tool, less she think about it. "Had I not saved you, perhaps you would have gone to Heaven and been happy," Light sighed, brushing a thumb tenderly under the slight depression of her eye. "It was selfish of me. I couldn't save the world, nor create a new one from the ashes of the dead. People are too corrupt."

"But you aren't," Misa laid a palm on his chest, and Light couldn't help a cringe at the sight of her dirty skin against his alabaster tone. How bitterly ironic, him carrying the signature shade of purity. It was disgusting. "Misa-Misa knows! You were a God." She sniffled, smiling. "You were my Light."

A terse silence followed her words, though Light's smile flickered somewhat the longer he looked at her, and she back. "Perhaps you'll go to Heaven after this. If anyone deserves mercy, it's you." He pressed his index fingers to the corners of her eyes, that glowing red illuminating them with dark streaks. The foreboding was strangely…._calming_. He would likely be punished by the king for this, if for no other reason but to relieve his boredom. Light was fine with that. Nothing could hurt him anymore; this was his last act of feeling, he sensed it. Misa remained his last tie to the world of the living, and to set her free would ultimately give him peace, yet damn him twice over. He would be alone…

"Light…..it hurts," Misa grabbed at his wrists, looking up at him pleadingly. Strange, Light thought, that only he and she were able to feel the same as a human. It made things so much more difficult.

"I know," he murmured, a gentleness to his tone that he hadn't heard in years. "It'll be over soon." His fingers dug harder into her skin, drawing tiny moans of pain from the blonde angel that had so utterly fallen from grace. He knew her skin would heal, though scar, and the thought saddened him enough to make his claws almost hesitate in their descent into her flesh. And yet he pressed forward, hearing her screams ringing in his ears as the horrific scene was replayed all around them in the polished planes of black; his nails sinking into her flesh, tearing at the ruby eyes that had only helped aid her in her fall into madness. Blood that shouldn't be possible for creatures such as them spilling down her cheeks, akin to dying rose petals, so silky and red. Blonde hair turning near black and falling free in her attempts to escape, fear dancing so wildly across those bright irises it was somewhat stunning, and morbidly fascinating. It had been forever since Light had seen such a beautiful sight. He was deranged thinking in such a way, he knew that, but if one of them deserved to be set free it was Misa. Her fall was his fault, his to take the blame for. Not her. She had always been but prey to the wolves…..or maybe not even that. "Misa…you never should've picked up that notebook," he kissed her cheek, tasting the salty copper on his lips. Misa tried to scream against his lips, but he silenced her with a faint "shush", even as blood rolled over his own face and darkened his skin. "I'm sorry, Misa," he pulled away from her, his fingers buried almost knuckle deep into her eyes. Misa had gone still, and he was rather surprised when thin arms came up to wrap around his waist, her bloody face pressing into his chest.

"Light…..will Misa-Misa ever-ever be free?" Her soft voice carried no hint of pain, as if her very senses had gone completely blank. Light frowned, though he knew she could no longer see his saddened face, and slowly withdrew his clawed fingers from their soft lodging, forcing himself to look at the pair of eyes that slid cleanly off his nails and rolled into the dust.

"I certainly hope so…." he picked them up again, the white orbs oddly clean of that black earth which tainted even their own skin, and pocketed them, his hand brushing her Death Note. It was a tempting notion, to take it with him, but likely the King would eventually come to claim it. Misa certainly wouldn't be using it anymore. Light managed a weak smile; "now she may know peace, after her time runs out. In return….."

"Light?" Misa seemed confused when he stood up and stepped away from her, her gaping, eyeless sockets like two holes in the deepest pits of hell. They wanted to suck him in, and he deserved it. But he was already in hell. "Wha-Misa-Misa doesn't-"

Light placed a finger against her lips, after a moment's pause wiping them clean. "Hush Misa. I think it's time you took a nap. You've never had a chance for one of those before, right?" He guided her into a sprawled position on the blackened soil, tenderly brushing a stray hair out of her distorted face. His own matted auburn fell in heaps over his shoulders, but he shoved them away and stared with a mingle of relief and horror at the young girl who had been so naïve, so pure, to fall in love with the wickedest of demons. "Just give in to it. Dream sweet things. I'll keep the monsters away." He would take any punishment for her. Not out of love, for he had truly never felt but a slight affection for the girl, but because it was his duty. As Kira, as God, and as a Shinigami.

Misa seemed to still see him, and with a smile she laid her head on the ground, fingers curling childishly in the soft dirt. "P-promise?"

Promise…..a word he had heard so many times. He'd broken more promises than he cared to remember. "I do." Light petted her head once more, letting his fingers graze down her sunken cheeks. With a heavy sigh he lifted the cloak from his shoulders and draped it over her form, glad that her sightless sockets could no longer see the monster he had become. Turning away from the porcelain doll with so many cracks and webs, Light kicked the Death Note at his feet far away into the black. He wanted it nowhere near her as she slept. "Misa…" he didn't look back, nor did she face him, he could tell, and his heart blackened as the bond between them completely frayed. A golden-red head slumped, soft coos coming from painted lips, and Light strolled out of the black mausoleum without looking back.

It was all he could do. His price had been paid, and hers was still fast in the making. He hoped she would feel no more pain, and be given peace by whatever means were considered appropriate in this world of death. He'd done his part, been the messiah she had always wanted. A knight in bloodstained armor, so to speak. Light chuckled, though it was a dry, brittle laugh. It rather reminded him of the chilling droll Ryuk had used, and worse….

"That was sooo sweet of you, Kira-kun."

Light didn't bother turning around; he knew those engaging tones entirely too well. "It was an act of repayment, nothing more," he said coldly, craning his head slightly. Through a film of dusty brown he saw the spindly figure come teetering towards him, eyes as red as the pair in his pocket narrowed gleefully. "I care not for her. You know that."

"Is that so?" The other male glanced at the black stone behemoth and giggled. "So….Kira-kun won't mind if I just"

"Stay away from her." A sharp bite entered Light's voice, and he whirled around to face the king of all monsters, a man strikingly similar to his once formidable foe. But L was in Heaven, or maybe even in Hell. The man who called himself B, better known as the Shinigami King, would make the very rulers of Hell flee in terror and beg forgiveness for their sins. Forgiveness B would never dream of offering. "I mean it. I don't care if you are the King of this damned place. Punish me as you like, but her sins are mine to bear."

"You accept them as your own," B questioned, leaning close to him. Light flinched as pale, spidery arms wrapped around his neck in a teasingly gentle embrace, lithe fingers burrowing messily into his tattered lengths and nearly tearing them out with their strength. "And what if she isn't forgiven, hmm? Kira-kun will have to take the blame all by himself." He giggled again, his tone now carrying a menacing under-bite. "I'll keep you here for all eternity you know."

Light nodded, untangling himself from the monstrous grip. "I know. Go ahead. I deserve to be here. I'm a monster, just as you are. I killed, and I enjoyed it." His hand went to the black notebook on his hip, held in place with chains just as Ryuk's always had been. "I still enjoy it…."

"Kira-kun is such a naughty little thing." Red eyes seemed to smirk at him, and with a caress of pale fingers down an equally snowy cheek B was strolling out across the landscape, his pale feet eagerly kicking up dust. Light pretended not to notice, instead glancing once more at the tomb that held his once partner's decrepit frame and then walking away. Guilt was something he no longer felt, but it was something of a comfort, knowing she would die and be forever freed of this place. She deserved freedom more than anyone. "Oh Kira-kun!" B's chilling voice grated across his ears, and Light felt himself cringe as a frigid kiss came out of nowhere and possessed his neck. "Try to remember, precious, that just because I let you go all noble on your little girlfriend doesn't mean anything's changed." He patted Light's backside, making him flinch. "Your little doll is free; in return, I think I should get a reward, yes?"

"….can I truly deny you," Light muttered, tilting his face away when B tried to look at him. Disgust prominent on his pale features, he shoved the older man off, hearing him cackle louder and louder with each step away. "This is my hell, and you are my Lucifer. I'll never be free from it." That was his punishment. Perhaps the gods had been particularly cruel when they had made him retain his humanesque form that was so similar to the king's. It mattered not. He was Kira. He could take any wound or punishment dealt out. It was his cross to bear, and bear it he would, even for those who had so mindlessly followed his teenage self on a quest to self empowerment. What else could he do after all? "None of them deserved it." They were guilty, to be sure, but it had been him that had led them all astray. Him, no one else. Misa had been the first to fall, and the only to receive his help. In the end, she had been the only one to deserve it…..and the only one still capable of helping. Light reached a hand into his pocket, touching the still warm eyes with his fingertips.

"Misa…." he closed his own pair of vibrant red orbs and drew his face into the cold mask that was all the figures of this realm ever got to see, his feet carrying him once again across the battered land. "In time her pain will fade…..and she might be forgiven…." Light clenched his teeth, holding back the scowl that so desperately wanted to come forth. She had been a lily amongst the thorns that had become his and L's battle, and they had torn her to shreds by their razor edges. Now it was his turn to pick up the pieces, and let her return to the earth and be born anew, while he rotted for eternity in this doomed world of death and shadows. Even so, it was likely she would only fade into oblivion, as Rem had done, or simply go to Hell. Compared to the nightmare that was Mu however, Hell might be a better place for her. "….silly girl. Your strings were always mine. You should've fled the devil's lair while you had a chance." And now they were cut, his little doll left to fade into the dust. Sightless, loveless, but forgiven. Light smiled, the expression glacial cold, and he raised a finger to caress the curve under one of his eyes, chuckling lowly. "…..I feel for you….."

_**This seemed like the best place to end it. And yeah, I just had to include B in there somewhere XD Come on though, we all know he'd be a badass Shinigami King! Yes, I know this was very different from my usual stories, but I wanted to capture the darker side of Death Note without touching into the romance and drama too much. Instead, focusing on Mu and Light's eternity, as well as Misa's, of being forever doomed to wander it and be Gods of Death. And no, Misa did not immediately die after Light ripped out her eyes. She did as he said, and laid down to sleep. It's supposed to be symbolic ^^; hopefully that came across, but if not then oh well!**_

_**Anyway, I hope this was…well….tragically awesome. I've been working on this monstrosity for forever, ever since it struck me months ago that I wanted to write a Shinigami story featuring Light and Misa. Thus this freak of nature was born lol No yaoi, which is stunning in itself, but regardless I hope it was enjoyable to read! But please leave me comments guys! Feedback is infinitely appreciated, and *cough, hinthint* fanart is too . **_

_**Sayonara! 3 you all!**_

_**Shizuka **_

**(ps. In case you didn't know, the title and occasional sneaky lyrics are from the Nightwish song "Feel For You". It really is what partially inspired me to write this)**


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